Trick of the Light
by beth9874
Summary: Set mid-season two, after FBL but before AHBL1. Dean is arrested for his brothers murder, but is Sam as dead as the evidence suggests. HURT/GUILTY!DEAN ANGST/PROTECTIVE!SAM
1. Arrest

Okay this story takes place after series one finale, sometime during series 2

Okay this story takes place after series one finale, sometime during series 2. It is un-beta'd and un-Americanised, so if there is any mistakes then I am sorry.

Disclaimer: Supernatural is ©2006 The CW Television Network. No profit is made from this story, so please don't sue.

A/N this is not a deathfic, you might think it is but it's not I promise. You'll get my jist when you read the next chappie.

Dean, sat in the corner of the room, covered in blood, sweat and grime, fresh tear tracks running down his face, and a gun lying discarded on the floor. It was over.

Agent Hendrickson and his FBI crew, sneaked up to the cabin, they had received a tip-off, that gun shots had been fired, and a black impala was parked outside the cabin. He had put two and two together, and had called every available officer. Gesturing towards his comrades they stood up guns raised and exploded in the cabin. Immediately they were met with gunfire,

"FBI put your hands in the air or I swear we will gun you down."

He yelled, fully expecting the tirade of gunfire to continue, but instead it stopped and they entered the small room.

Dean Winchester was sitting in the corner looking up arrogantly, his gun, coked lazily in his hand, pointing straight at him. They stared at each other for what felt like hours but can't have been more than 5 seconds, and Dean lightly threw his gun across the room, towards Hendrickson's feet.

"Get down on your knees; keep your hands where I can see them"

Hendrickson cuffed him, silently. The cocky attitude seemed to have evaporated since he had last seen him.

"Sir, we have found something" came a voice from the other room,

Hendrickson stood up, and raised his gun slightly into the other room, expecting there to be some kind of stand-off with the other brother. Sam Winchester was in the other room along with three other men and one woman; each of them sporting multiple bullet hole to the chest, Sam was tied in a chair and had just the one bullet hole through the centre of the forehead. Suddenly Hendrickson understood where Dean's attitude had gone, the man was crazy.

3 hours later

Dean lay on the bed in his cell, it was hard but hard mattresses were the least of his worries. The Guilt was overwhelming, and the same images kept flashing through his head, his dad had warned him about it, now he was the last one left, his mum dead, his dad dead because of him, and he has shot his own brother in the head. Dean Winchester the last solider fighting on in a strange and lonely world. Everything was different now, he would probably never leave jail again, this thought was comforting at least in jail he couldn't hurt anybody; he couldn't save anybody either but that thought never crossed his mind.

"Dean Winchester" he looked up, "come with me to the interview room" the nameless man looked down on him like he was some filthy animal, not looking him in the eye, but in Deans eye he was an animal who had followed his Father's instructions no-matter who got hurt. Dean had tried everything to save his brother, but there had to be something else, that he just hadn't thought of. Not moving, he shut his eyes.

"_Dean just kill me please, I don't want to be like this, I don't want to kill anyone else" tears were streaming down Sam's face. _

"_Sammy I can't; there has to be something else we can try" Dean half begged half sobbed._

"_I can feel it coming, the evil is covering me, painting my soul black, soon I won't be me any more, I'll be a monster. I don't want to die as a monster I want to die as me, Sam Winchester. Not a daemon leader." fingers trembling Dean Felt his hand pull on the trigger, and with a bang, Sammy's eyes went dull, and he stopped moving. _

Dean opened his eyes, the guy at the door was saying something, but for the life of him he couldn't see the point in listening. The guard marched into the cell and pulled him up gruffly. Dean felt like he was watching it from an outsiders perspective, a broken man, an obsessed cop and a tape recorder whirring round and round. The small room was suffocating, and the dead inside man, was seriously pissing off the cop with this silent treatment. The colours of the room were blurring and spinning and the world went dark.

_Dean fisted Sam's t-shirt, his body was almost lax in his arms, and his head lolled in Deans chest. Dean felt guilty leaving his body tied to the chair, desperately he began to untie his wrists, but Dean's hands were shaking so much, he managed to undo one knot before he lashed out in anger at the nearest object, which happened to be a coffee table. One of the legs broke off, and Dean used it to smash the table to splinters. Looking around the room at Sam and the dead Daemon hosts, he fled from the room and began smashing up the one next door. What seemed like hours later his anger disappeared and turned into heart-wrenchingly painful guilt and sorrow. He curled up in a ball and just sobbed, until he had no more tears to give. _

Dean woke to a bright light shinning in his eyes.

"He has a concussion, I think it was a mixture of exhaustion and the concussion that caused him to pass out" The nurse said,

Dean nose was itching, he reached up to try and scratch it only to find he was handcuffed to the bed, what did they think he would try and escape. Hendrickson walked into the room and told the guard "Take him back to his cell." Hendrickson was left fuming, the son of a bitch had just stared at him the entire interrogation it was like he didn't even know what was happening. He had known the man was insane, but to murder his own brother well that was just psychotic, even for the famous Dean Winchester. The press was crawling over this case like rats. One of the reporters who had been following the case since the very beginning had, discovered that Dean and Sam's dad was also responsible for a string of deaths and Dean could have committed his first murder at 15. It had become apparent over the night that Sammy boy had left his crazy family and run away to Stanford, this had to be the most bizarre case he had ever worked on. Hendrickson made himself a promise that night, he was going to find out everything he could about this family and then he was going to make sure that Dean Winchester got the punishment he deserved.

**A/N** okay that took ages to write, I am going to post it now and review it in the morning, so any mistakes I am so sorry. Like I said though this is not a deathfic.


	2. Morgues and Guilt

A/N this was Americanized by an English person, makes load of sense that o anything you don't understand I am sorry

A/N this was Americanized by an English person, makes load of sense that o anything you don't understand I am sorry.

This Winchester case was a weird one, first a string of murders, insane witnesses who claimed the boys had saved there lives, and now he had one in custody and the other one had just walked out the morgue. How hard can it be to keep a body in a freezer, and who would want to steal a body anyway? Maybe the boys were part of some hellish cult which might explain the grave desecrations. Special agent Hendrickson buried his head in his arms letting out a small weary sigh, glancing at the clock which said 03.17 taking another gulp of his coffee Hendrickson walked over to the cells.

Dean Winchester was curled up in a ball, slight tremors racked his body, and every now and then he would let out the smallest of whimpers, his eyes were rolling around behind the lids. Hendrickson stared at the young man in front of him, there was blood in his hair. Growing up in down town New York had taught Hendrickson how to read people, and he could normally tell in a glance if they were guilty or not, but the Winchester case, they let of mixed signals, almost like they were doing what they thought was right, but people got hurt because of it. In all his time as detective and previous he had never met two brothers as close as these two, what could have driven one to kill the other, was a mystery. Another mystery was who would steal a body, that was evidence, they didn't even have the coroners report, without it, it would be difficult to convict Dean for his brother murder.

_Dean was lying down on his bed, 3 days beard growth on his face, his whisky bottle was almost empty. Littered on the floor was a mixture of papers, and alcohol. Dean honestly felt like shit, he hadn't eaten in at least two or three days. Booze and an empty stomach was not a good combination, and when he wasn't drinking he was puking, up disgusting green bile. He still got a twin room, in case he found his brother. He hadn't given up but they had no leads, no demonic or any other form of supernatural activity had occurred in the area he had disappeared, he had just vanished after getting some supplies from the store. Sammy had been missing for a month now and no-one had heard hide nor hair of him._ _The phone rang, glancing at the display he saw it was Bobby, his face fell and he realized he had been holding his breath. He left the phone, if it was important Bobby would leave a voice mail, Bobby had been calling a lot lately asking him how he was, Bobby wanted to help him find Sammy. Deep down Dean knew his brother wouldn't come back, even if he could fight off the daemon that had him in his grasp. Sammy would be too ashamed of what he had done. _

Dean abruptly awoke from his slumber "What are you doing there" Dean said as soon as he spotted Hendrickson.

"Waiting for you to wake up" Hendrickson replied smoothly "I need to ask you something, just under an hour ago your brother's body was stolen from the morgue. I know you and your brother like to dig up graves and burn corpses, now would you mind telling me who would have a motive to steal it. One of you psycho friends; Robert Singer, Jo and Ellen her mother, Ash" Dean's eyes widened how much did this guy know, he knew that there was a reward for any information about him, nobody at the Roadhouse would give away that kind of information, would they?

"I don't know what you are talking about" his father had taught him how to lie with a straight face along time ago, and Dean just kept his face expressionless and hoped that Hendrickson didn't notice the surprise he had shown a few seconds ago.

"Well I have looked through the records and these kind of Deaths date back as far as records go, and in Europe even further back, as do the burning of bodies. Me and my team think we might have discovered some time of cult, now tell me what is it Devil worship or something more"

"You are crazy, me and my family we are not part of a cult" _just the opposite. _

"Well the evidence collected at a bar called the Roadhouse suggests different, lots of books in the basement about witchcraft and daemons. Black magic maybe?" Dean stared at Hendrickson and noticed that when he said 'black magic' his eyes jerked to the right slightly, he knew more about black magic than he was letting on. Dean Winchester was very good at reading people, years of playing poker had taught him well, and he could tell, that at some point in his life Hendrickson had lost someone to the supernatural; but who, ex, no that wasn't it, close family maybe. That was it; studying his face Dean came to the conclusion that it was his child.

"How did you son die sir" Hendrickson's eyes flashed black, his face transformed from one of weariness to anger so quickly, it must have been painful for the facial muscles. Definitely his son, Sammy will be impressed; suddenly the events of last night came crashing down onto Dean.

_Dean's head crashed against the wall with an almighty thud. Sam surveyed his brother with an evil smile on his face, humans were pathetically weak, not like the daemons, they were superior in every way possible. How could he have been so foolish as too think he could win against them. _

"Don't you dare mention my son" Dean awoke from his semi-conscious state, to find Hendrickson looming over him, he had let himself into the cell. Kicking him sharply in the ribs he said "How did you know anyway, one of your freaky friends do it, tell me right now or I will make sure you regret it"

"No I just guessed, honest the way you were talking about cults I figured you had lost someone close through one, son seamed the most obvious one. Me and Sam did some research on you" that last bit was a downright lie, they had looked him up, but they had skimmed over the bits about his personal life.

Hendrickson stood up and kicked him again, then left the cell, he didn't believe a word he said but he didn't want to kill him in a police station, there would be time for that later.

_SNSNSN_

Sam woke up he was fucking freezing; there was ice on his eyelashes. Felling around he realized he was in a coffin sized freezer. Looking down towards his feet, he saw a thin slither of light, he began kicking the area around the light, and with an almighty bang it flew open. Hoisting himself up he surveyed the room, he realized with sickening apprehension that he was naked and in a morgue, shivering violently he noticed a lab coat on the door. Grabbing and covering himself up he ran out of the room.

After several close encounters with some police men, he was out on the street, spotting a car he broke the window and let himself in. Hot wiring the car slowly, because he was still shivering so badly, in fact now he had started to warm up a little it felt more like burning. If Dean was here right now he would so be taking the piss out of him. With the car started he looked in the back-seat, and to his relief he saw some clothes. And a phone, almost like it had been left for him. Getting changed quickly he typed in Dean's number:

RING

RING

RING

the sound of the Deans rocking ring tone, out throughout the police station, leaving every startled as to where it had come from.

'Hey this is Dean here; you know what to do BEEEEP'

Not like Dean not to answer his cell. Looking at a newspaper which was also in the back-seat the date said 9th April 2008. how did that work the last thing he remembered was Dean's birthday, which they celebrated by getting pissed out of there head and Dean going home with two lady friends while Sam was left to go to the motel, which was the 24 January. Where the fuck had the last three months gone

A/N alright everyone review please. I don't care if it is a good or bad review. How can I change it if I don't know what's wrong with it? If there is something you don't like tell me, so I can change it in the next chapter. Remember the more you review the faster I update


	3. Trumptintion

:okay long time no see you guys, well I have to explain I didn't have Microsoft so every time I wrote a chapter I had to use open office shudders I hate open office it is st

:okay long time no see you guys, well I have to explain I didn't have Microsoft so every time I wrote a chapter I had to use open office shudders I hate open office it is st. so I didn't like writing all that much. But now I have word and excel and everything. Calm down Beth, okay sorry it's just that have you seen the prices of those things I figured well open office would be okay, until I used it. I have mainly concentrated on background in this chappy, so not much action.

: You guys mentioned a lot of guilty Dean and I love writing that so here it is.

Holding the phone in his hand, Sam surveyed the street, his hunter instincts not picking anything up that was out of the ordinary, it just looked as normal as you would expect any high street to look in the dead of night, completely empty apart from the bum sleeping on a bench. Sam looked at the phone again and dialled Bobby's number.

RING

RING

RING

"Lo, who's this" Bobby slurred he had evidently been sleeping,

"Bobby it's Sam, I dunno what happened but I woke up in a morgue, and I don't know where I am and the last thing I remember is Dean's birthday Dean's not answering the phone and I found all this stuff in a car" Sam said very fast not taking in any breath.

"Okay slow down, you say you woke up in a morgue, well that means it worked or that it left your body of its own accord. Dean is probably near by he was always really close behind you"

"What worked" Sam asked

"A spell, old magic that, you were possessed, not by a daemon but something else, we couldn't exorcise it without killing you, so we cast a spell"

"I was possessed, by what"

"Let's not talk about that, lets concentrate on finding your brother, I didn't even know he had found you"

"Tell me Bobby" Sam said his voice very low and threatening.

"I can't tell you on the phone ask Dean when we find him, do you know what town you are in"

Sam looked around and saw a store called Trumptintion Store, and looking at the plates of a _ford_ in front of him, told him he was in Montana.

"Trumptintion, Montana" Sam said in a monotone voice

"Trumptintion, what sort of name is that" Bobby joked trying to raise the mood of the conversation "listen I'll be there in by nightfall tomorrow, well technically today seeing as it's three in the morning, okay" Bobby had been so worried about Sam and now he was finally talking to him again, he couldn't think of anything to say and was blabbering on like an idiot, but he didn't think Sam really cared.

Sam sat staring at the police station for a while praying his brother was near by and started up the car and drove off, hoping a motel would still be open for late guests.

SNSNSN

Dean hadn't slept much, Bobby had promised him that if he got rid of the daemon, Sam would be okay, now not only was Sam dead, but he evidently hadn't killed the thing that was inside him and it was lose again, it could still hurt people. Bobby had promised him a single shot to the head would kill it and because of the spell Sam would be okay, but it hadn't worked. More people were going to die; their blood was on his hands Anna, Gracie, Kim, Shannon and the others. If he hadn't done his job, his only job to protect his brother they would still be alive, and Sam wouldn't be trapped in his own body. Dean rubbed his eyes, other than the couple of hours sleep he had gotten in his cell, Dean hadn't slept in, well he didn't know. Huge bags were under his eyes, and his ribs jutted out against his chest, from under eating. Curling his skeletal frame in on himself Dean looked at the grey brick wall of the cell, he had better get used to this and Dean doubted he would get out this time. Hopefully Bobby could deal with Sam, Dean was just so tired, both physically and mentally, and try as he might he couldn't think of a way to bust jail again.

The rest of the night consisted of nothing much for Dean, other than staring at the same brick, walls made of even stronger bricks being built around his mind, all thoughts and feelings pushed away, Dean was rapidly becoming nothing but the empty shell of a man, he couldn't save those people and he couldn't save Sammy.

SNSNSN

Hendrickson woke violently from the hard chair he had been using as a bed, his neck was stiff and his back hurt in places he didn't know existed. The sheriff was surveying him with the air of a man, who was trying to figure out what exactly what was happening.

"Bad dream?" he said a huge, fake, plastic smile covering his face

"No"_ I've had worse_ lingered in the air, but the sheriff seamed oblivious to the FBI agents psyche and continued to do paperwork, still with that plastic smile on his face.

In truth Hendrickson was surprised he had even had that dream, he had stopped having nightmares about his sons death along time ago, he still thought about Joshua everyday, but the exact manner of his death, Hendrickson never thought about. It was too painful, too unexplainable and Hendrickson was a man who seldom thought about the unknown; he was a realist, and believed in what there was rock solid proof of, everything else was just not true.

SNSNSN

Sammy had got twin beds, this had to have been one of the crummiest motels he had ever stayed at, the wallpaper was peeling of the walls, and Sam didn't want to risk using the bathroom. The early morning light was creeping through the blinds, but Sam was exhausted, Bobby wouldn't be here for hours anyway, and he didn't even know if Dean was in the same State. Sam fell asleep with sunlight dancing across his face, hopeful that tomorrow he would get answers and find Dean. As Bobby had said Dean was never far behind him.

Through the wall of the motel, a TV was on, two little boys barely out of toddler hood sat watching the screen, it was set on the news as the remote was lost for the Telly, meaning it could only pick up one station.

"Well it's a bright day today in Montana, serial killer Dean Winchester was apprehended today just out side of Trumptintion, in most bizarre circumstances, our correspondent David Brown is in Trumptintion now"

"Thank you Chloe, well it appears to be, that Dean was arrested at the site of another gruesome murder, 4 men and a woman were killed, however one of the victims was Sam Winchester his own brother. Leaked reports are saying that Sam was killed in a ritualistic fashion, with symbols drawn all over the walls and ceiling. More updates as they break"

"Thank you David. And now in other news Isilition has had a strange bout of bear attacks, authorities are working on…"

Sam Winchester lay asleep; with no idea he brother was closer than he thought"

SNSNSN

A deputy carrying a tray of food walked down the cell block it said on his nametag Bill. Dean was frightfully skinny, and he had realised that he needed food, and nobody was going to get him some. Banging on the door with the tray he called out Dean's name

"Dean, chow time"

No reply,

"Come on I got you some nice" glancing down at the grey unidentifiable food on the tray "food?"

Still no reply despite the fact, he could see his eyes were open.

"Okay I am going to open the cell and out the food on the ground okay, don't try anything okay"

Bill put the tray on the floor, there was still no response from Dean, Phil was getting worried now so he walked over to the cot and tried to shake him out of it. Dean fell floppy like a rag doll, and made no attempt at answering him.

"Hey guys I think I need some help down here" Phil shouted down the hall. About 8 guys came running thinking that he was in trouble, including Hendrickson.

"What are you, suicidal get out of that cell right now, that prisoner is dangerous" Hendrickson ordered.

"He's not responding sir" he hasn't even flinched.

Getting his gun out of the waistband of his pants, Hendrickson advanced on Dean, and put the barrel of the gun on his forehead.

"Now, stop this funny business or I will shoot you, do you understand"

"Sir, I don't think there is any reason for this"

They all looked down at Dean he hadn't even flinched


	4. Of Vents and Sulphur

: Alright, here's the next chapter, Language warning,

**A/N** okay, I wrote this ages ago, then re-wrote it. Basically, I had to get something up, and this is more of a nothing chapter until we get to jail-busting action packed Hurt!Dean galore next chapter.

**Disclaimer**- : Supernatural is ©2006 The CW Television Network

: Alright, here's the next chapter, Language warning,

"_He's not responding sir" he hasn't even flinched._

_Getting his gun out of the waistband of his pants, Hendrickson advanced on Dean, and put the barrel of the gun on his forehead._

"_Now, stop this funny business or I will shoot you, do you understand"_

"_Sir, I don't think there is any reason for this"_

_They all looked down at Dean he hadn't even flinched_

"Shit, what's wrong with him, is he sick or something" the deputy asked, obviously worried

"Maybe, he is probably just trying to play the criminally insane ploy, 10 years in a lunatic asylum is a lot better than the electric chair. Well he can't fool me, he's faking it"

"Well shouldn't we get a doctor in anyway, that way we would know for certain" the deputy, couldn't hide his concern now, and the other people in the room were giving him funny looks.

"Why do you care so much about a serial killer" at that he went silent, it was a long story and he didn't want to end up in a padded room, along with Dean.

_Dean couldn't see a thing, as far as the eye could see it was white, with no discernable difference between walls and ceilings._

"_Hello again Dean" Dean swung round to see his mother standing about 10 feet away from him._

"_What you not going to give me a hug" her arms were outstretched,_

"_You're not her, stop it"_

"_Well aren't you a clever one, but Dean now you are at my mercy, I don't like being locked up. Sam was fun to play with, I need a new toy now" and with that she walked away into the horizon of white._

"_Sam's alive" Dean couldn't help but smile, unless it was all a trick. He wouldn't put it past that thing. The being with no-name, it was true. Smiling to himself; he began to laugh, hysteric insane laugher, in trying to frighten him that bitch had told him that Sammy was still alive. Now all he had to do was break out of this prison._

Dean had suddenly started laughing, it was cruel and malicious, and his eyes open and darting around like an animal in a cage, for the briefest of moments his eyes went black.

"What are you doing in my cell gentlemen, I know I am cute an all but do you have to watch me sleep" Dean smirked, slightly breathless from laughing. The glare that Dean shot them after that was one of pure venom. The deputies and the sheriff backed out, leaving Hendrickson and Dean alone in the cell.

"You had better sleep with one eye open, 'cause when I am through with you, you're going to wish you'd never been born. I know what you did, what you are" and with that Hendrickson followed the others out of the cell block, leaving Dean alone, with nothing but the distant sound of a woman talking, but it was so quiet he couldn't distinguish the words.

Now he knew Sam was safe he had to get out of this damn cell, no way was he going to prison for a crime he did/didn't commit, Sam was alright and that's all that was important. Looking around the cell Dean could see no obvious weak spots, there was a vent at the top left hand side, but even with his new smaller physique he doubted he could fit in. Dean looked at the vent, there was an odd smell coming faintly off of it, it smelled like rotting flesh, it was faint but now he noticed it, he couldn't stop smelling it. Using the crack between two bricks he hoisted him self up on his fingers, to take a look inside. There was sulphur on side of the grill, and Dean didn't need an EMF to sense a distinct spiritual presence, years of hunting had given him that skill. Dean's fingers were burning, and the nails chipping under the weight. The vent was actually large, but it just had a small grill. Dean didn't believe in luck, the odds on him being put in a cell with a ready made escape route were small, so it was with great caution he began to unscrew the grill, holding him self up with the fingers of one hand.

"Fuck" Dean fell to the floor, blood was leaking out of his left fingernail. "Shit, I broke a nail" _Sam would never let me live that down it he heard that_ chuckling to himself at the thought, Dean gave up on unscrewing the damn vent. Standing on his toes he was just about to bang the thing in, when a police officer came in. evidently the oh so wise officers had realised he didn't have a guard. Vaguely Dean recognised him as the deputy who cared just a little bit for his welfare.

"What's your name" Dean asked flopping down on the bed.

"Bill Jones" the deputy replied.

Dean vaguely recognised that name from somewhere "Parents not one for multiple syllables then" looking up at the man, Dean knew he knew him from somewhere "Do I know you"

"You knew my father, he was killed when I was 15" Bill was pleased that Dean recognised him; it meant that this Dean Winchester was the same Dean Winchester, who saved his ass all those years ago.

"I think I remember, poltergeist, you were that freak in my class at school, whose house it was. Sorry about your Dad." Dean smiled to himself, _guess I don't need to go through the vents to get out of here._

"I'm not gonna break you out, you're a serial killer, I just wanted to say thank you, for you know saving mine and my moms life"

"Never was one for cereal, too healthy" Dean grinned at his own joke. Bill, however was having none of it, he just stared at Dean for a moment and became engrossed in the brickwork, above the cell. _There goes the easy way out_.

Bobby knocked on the motel door, no answer.

"Sam open the door, or I'll break in" still no reply. Getting a paper clip out of his Jacket sleeve he picked the lock. On the bed nearest the window Sam was asleep, the sun dancing across his face. "SAM"

"Wha, what's going on" Sam slurred slightly

"Do you, watch the news Dean has been arrested at as we speak is in jail, no more than 5 miles away. Trumptintion any way what sort of idiot names a town that."

"Well what are you waiting for, let's go get him"

"Sam, you're legally dead, I got a 'friend' inside and a lawyer who's friendly to the cause, he'll be out in no time"

"Bobby, I can't just sit here, while my brother is rotting away in some jail" getting up from the bed Sam headed towards the door.

"Oh yeah, what you gonna do, bust in their and go 'I'm alive, let my brother go'. That won't work because a) he is there for more than one murder, b) they'll arrest you. Is that what you want? Now you sit tight here, and I am gonna go up to the station, with Dean's lawyer and get him out legally on bail. If that fails we'll bust him out."

"I can't just sit here; I need to do something, anything. I need to know what the fuck is going on. How can I be alive when Dean shot me? Where have I been these last couple of months? And why did Dean shoot me? Did I turn? Did I become evil? What the fuck is happening"

"Look it is a really long story, can we get Dean out and then we can talk, but until then sit tight, and don't leave the motel room." Bobby sighed, Winchesters the whole lot of them, couldn't stay out of trouble for a million dollars. "Just watch some TV, Dean's case his huge, press vans are everywhere in town"

Bill was an idiot, what sort of guard falls asleep while on guard duty, Dean vaguely wondered how long he had been here, at least a day. With the guy sleeping not 4 feet away from him Dean had to be silent in his escaping. Both of his hands were sporting bleeding fingers from climbing up the wall. Only one more screw left and he was out of here. Looking down at his fingers, at least two were broken and fingernails only remained on the thumbs and pinkies. The pain was shooting up his arm why the fuck did they make the cells so high, and the vent so far away from the bed, that was just bad planning, what about the innocent people they locked up, they needed a way out.

"Grrh" with one last grunt of pain, dean got the grill off. Grinning he jumped up and hoisted himself through the hole and into the vents. There was a trail of sulphur and the stench of death was now so strong, but Dean's 'luck' could only last so long. A strange glow that just screamed trap, was at the far end of the tunnel. Keeping his senses alert, he went to the source of the light, turning a corner, the world went black as a large object hit him on the back of the head.

**A/N** okay I could ramble for England as you may have guessed by this chapter, sorry not much happened, but I need Dean to be captured for the next bit. Oh and here's a little spoiler, it's not 'luck' about the vent being able to fit a 6 foot grown man through it., cause how thick would a designer be to put that in a cell.


End file.
